Still
by laynee
Summary: Dick Grayson hadn't woken up in days, hadn't moved. Bruce hadn't left his side. When one falls, all gather to bring him back up. hurt dick grayson, worried bruce
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

-------nw-------

Things had been bad, more than bad, in the past few weeks. One thing after another; bank robbery, kidnapping, drugs, murder, gangs, kids and bystanders hurt, killed. There was no light, not in those weeks.

Bruce Wayne hadn't moved in a few hours. Aside from blinking, breathing and the clenching of his jaw, he was still. He waited and watched, but it changed nothing. The room around him had taken the vague appearance of a hospital room; an I.V. stand in place of a lamp, an oxygen tank nearby just in case, medications lined up on the bedside table.

Alfred came into the room. "No change, Master Bruce?"

"No." The word was quiet and heavy in the room.

"Perhaps some tea, then." He poured a mug of tea and pressed it into Bruce's hands. "Master Richard has always shown surprising strength against the greatest of odds."

Bruce didn't answer other than peering into the murky depths of the tea before returning his attention to Dick's still form.

7 YEARS BEFORE

Robin slipped form shadow to shadow on patrol for the Titans rather than Batman. He had been thinking of the future lately. The future of Robin, of the Titans, of Dick Grayson now that high school was over. Now that he was eighteen.

Ryan Jones's only future was making sure his younger brother and sister had something to eat in the morning. Things would be easier now that he was done with high school, he could get a second job. During school he worked evenings down at the docks. It was back-breaking work, but it put food on the table and paid rent.

The one thing that Ryan had always been good at was reading people and by the age of seven he had learned to use that ability to win games of poker. That was how he got the money to keep the gas and electric on and to make sure that his siblings had jackets and shoes. It was easier too, now that Jake was twelve and able to watch Emily, who had just turned eight. Not that Mrs. Kazparizk down the hall wasn't great, but she was old and sometimes forgot to make lunch.

Thing is, when Ryan wins six games in a row, whether or not he has the cards to back it up, the shady people he usually plays with don't like losing to a smart ass eighteen year old kid.

He kept one had around the stack of cash in his pocket as he ran from the four very large and very angry lower rung mobsters. Ryan ended up in scrapes like that every few weeks, but it didn't make it any less dangerous though. He ducked through a doorway and an out onto the street. Ryan had been running the streets of lower Gotham since he was four, usually from his dad's latest drunken tirade.

He wasn't all that sad when his dad died five years previous and made him man of the house at thirteen. Their mother left a year ago, that was harder. She hadn't wanted to, but the doctors insisted and Ryan had to agree that it was getting harder to take care of her now that the medication wasn't as effective. He visited on weekends, sometimes she recognized him. He had gotten used to taking care of himself and his siblings. Usually he did just fine.

The bullet tore through his shoulder, but he kept running. Things could only get worse if he stopped. He thought about Jake and Emily, wondered if he'd seem them again, wondered what would happen to them if he didn't.

Dick stopped thinking of the future when eh saw the lone figure run down the ally below. He had a decent head start against the men behind him. Until Dick heard the gunshot and the young stumbled a little and knew he had to step in. Dick swung down and silently took out one of the mobsters. _One down, three to do._

Ryan knew he couldn't run forever and the shoulder wound was starting to slow him down. They usually didn't shoot him, it crossed his mind that he may have pissed off the wrong mobsters. He turned down an ally, lost in a city he thought he knew every shady corner of. He found himself at a dead end and didn't miss the irony of the situation. He stopped, straightened his shoulders despite the pain and turned.

Instead of the fight he was preparing for, a lean figured dropped down from the roof. Ryan tensed, ready to fight.

"Where'd they shoot you?" The figure stepped forward and light hit the 'R' on his chest.

Ryan relaxed a little. "Shoulder." He paused. "Thanks."

"I'll take you to the hospital."

"Can't. Have to get home." He'd already been away twelve hours, he didn't like being gone that long. Besides, they didn't have money for hospitals.

Dick knew better than to argue. "I'll take you home then and see what I can do there."

Ryan intended to aruge that as well, but the adrenaline faded and he staggered back. "Guess I might need some help after all."

Ryan gave directions as Dick drove through the darkened streets. He hoped his siblings were asleep so they didn't have to see him come home bloody and shot.

Dick pulled up in front of a low rent apartment building. It was the type of place where people were one paycheck from a shelter or the street. A place where the streets during the day weren't much safer than the streets at night. A place where someone could hear ten different fights in an hour and the police wouldn't come no matter who was hit.

"It's not much." Ryan muttered.

"But it's home, yeah?"

Ryan nodded.

He was a little unsteady on his feet as Dick helped him up the three flights of stairs. The only difference of Ryan's door from any of the others was the two extra deadbolts. Dick wondered about the importance of the items inside.

The apartment was four small rooms; living room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Ryan slept on a mattress in the living room so Jake and Emily could have the bedroom. A used couch, small television, battered table and shelves of books filled the room.

"Kitchen table would be the best." Dick dampened a towel in the sink.

"There's a pretty good first-aid kit above the sink." Ryan sighed.

Dick found it and figured he'd have what he needed. Even in the apartment, he was still on alert. He heard the nearly silent footsteps behind him and he turned.

Jake stood in almost too small pajamas. "Ryan?"

"I'm okay." He held the towel to his bloody shoulder.

"What happened?" He whispered, his eyes locked to Dick. "You're Robin."

Dick smiled. "Yeah. What's your name?"

"Jake. What happened to Ryan?" He gripped the edge of the counter.

Ryan straightened. "I'm all right, go back to bed."

The boy didn't move.

Dick looked at each of the brothers. "Jake, why don't you help me. Can you sit across from your brother and make sure he's okay while I fix him up?"

Jake nodded and sat down. Dick wiped away the blood and looked at the bullet wound by Ryan' left shoulder blade.

"You've done this before?" Ryan tried to joke.

"Yeah." Dick looked up and winked at Jake.

Dick quickly removed the bullet and stitched up the wound. Ryan was quiet and focused. He was no stranger to pain, but he also tried to avoid it if at all possible. Dick taped gauze down and wiped blood away. Ryan relaxed slightly and took the pills he was handed.

"Jake, go to bed now. I'm fine."

The boy stood and slowly left the room.

Dick sat down across from Ryan. "You're doing all right?"

Ryan nodded. "Thanks, for everything." He paused. "We wouldn't have had the money for the hospital."

"Just you and your brother?"

"And a sister."

Dick hated when he came across families like that, the ones where people too young to be raising kids are raising kids. It was the result of a broken society, the innocent victims.

"Why were they after you?" Dick couldn't see any signs of anything illegal, and after all the years behind the mask, he was a good judge of character.

Ryan smiled. "I've been winning poker since I was a kid, some people aren't too happy after I clean them out." He met Dick's eyes. "I don't cheat, never have. I can just read people."

He nodded. 'Just be careful next time." He stood. "I have to go."

"Thanks."

Dick nodded and then was gone. Ryan sat alone at the table for a few minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

-------nw-------

NOW.

Leslie had spent hours at Wayne manner over the past three days. She watched over Dick carefully, but there wasn't much she could do.

She changed his intravenous drip and checked his vitals.

"Anything?" Bruce's voice was gritty with fatigue. He stood in the doorway.

"I thought you were sleeping." She glanced up.

"Was. How is he?"

She checked his reflexes, they were weak, but there. "No change. He should still be in the hospital."

"He wouldn't get any better care, would he?"

"Not at this point." She sighed.

"When he wakes up, I want him to be some place familiar."

Neither mentioned that Dick hadn't called the Manner home in nearly six years. Neither mentioned that Dick might not wake up at all.

"Who's watching the city?" She met Bruce's eyes in the dim room.

He eased into a chair at the bedside. "Tim, Clark, Barbara, I don't know."

Bruce was handling this like he handled Jason's death, except there was still a chance Dick would come back. Bruce hyper focused in situations like that, he focused on his son. Nothing else mattered. He would let Gotham burn if it would bring Dick back.

"Considering it all, he's doing well." Leslie documented the vitals. "He's healthy and young. He has a good chance."

Bruce nodded, his eyes locked on Dick's still figure.

SEVEN YEARS PREVIOUS.

Dick found himself back at Ryan's doorstep without the costume this time. It had been three days since the shooting, Ryan hadn't been able to work, Dick knew enough to know Ryan wouldn't accept money, but a home-cooked meal would be hard to turn down. Besides, Dick had already wired the money into Ryan's bank account.

He knocked and the door opened the half inch the chain would allow.

Jake peered out through the gap. "Yeah?"

"My name is Dick Grayson, Robin asked me to stop by."

Jake hesitated, but was clearly intrigued.

"Jake, who is it?" Ryan called from inside.

Jake looked at Dick for a moment. "Some guy, says he knows Robin."

There were a few minutes of awkward silence, then Ryan appeared behind his brother. He was clearly worn out.

He met Dick's eyes with practiced street toughness. "What do you want?"

Dick smiled and held up the bag of food. "I'm Dick Grayson, I know Robin and he said to stop by. I brought dinner."

"Prove it."

He had to give Ryan credit for protecting what was left of his family. "A few nights back, Robin helped you out of a scrape. He patched you up at the kitchen table."

"How do you know Robin?"

"We're close friends. Listen, fi it's too much trouble, I'll just leave this and be on my way."

Ryan met his eyes, held the gaze. "No, come in." He unlocked the chain and opened the door. "Sorry about the twenty questions. We don't get many visitors and the ones we get are crashing junkies with the wrong address."

Dick stepped inside.

"Come on out, Em." Jake called.

She cautiously slipped from the back room and Jake put his arm around her shoulders. Ryan looked over at his siblings.

He eased into a kitchen chair. "That's Jake and Emiy. I'm Ryan."

"Nice to meet you both." Dick set out chicken, potatoes, carrots, broccoli, rolls and pie.

"So, Robin sent you with this?"

"He said you couldn't work for a bit, sent me over."

"Said your name was Dick Grayson?"

"Yeah."

"As in Bruce Wayne?"

He hoped Ryan wouldn't have put that together so quickly, not that he wasn't used to it, but still. "Yeah." He glanced away.

Ryan smirked. "He know you're in this part of town?"

"He's away quiet a bit."

"Why are you really here? There's gotta be hundreds of people worse off than me."

Dick shrugged. "I'm not here for charity."

"You always visit people Robin saves?"

"Thought we were done with twenty questions."

Ryan nodded. "Jake get some plates."

Emily slid inot the chair between Dick and Ryan, she smiled up at him. "Hi."

"Usually she's too shy to say anything/" Jake set plates down.

"Hi, Emily. Very nice to meet you."

She giggled as Jake put food on her plate/

"How's your shoulder?" Dick turned to Ryan.

"Can't move it much, but it's getting better I think. I can probably go back to work next week."

Jake stopped. "It won't be good enough by then."

"I'll be okay, Jake, I need to work."

"I could-"

Ryan's eyes were hard. "No. Your only job is school."

Dick leaned forward. "Don't worry, Jake. Robin told me he'd keep an eye on you guys."

Jake smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah." He winked.

After dinner, Dick and Ryan went out on the fire escape while Ryan and Emily watched television.

"Thanks." Ryan glanced over. "You didn't have to."

"It's nothing, really."

"So, must be nice, born into all that money." He wasn't bitter, just wanted insight to a life he'd never have. It wasn't every day he entertained billionaire's sons for dinner.

"I wasn't. Bruce Wayne came into my life after my parents were killed when I was eight."

"Sorry."

Dick shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"It's just been us three for the past year. A little rough, but we've managed."

Ryan and Dick almost found it strange how easy it was to talk to each other like thye had know the other for years. Like they had grown up together.

NOW.

"Master Bruce." Alfred stood in the doorway.

Bruce looked up.

"Mr. Ryan Jones is here. I believe he is a friend of Master Richard's."

"Have him wait in the library, I'll be down shortly."

Alfred left the room. Bruce hesitated, then stood. He stopped in the bathroom and cuppet water up to his face. Anything to keep pfrom looking like he had been awake for the past four days.

A well-dressed man about Dick's age waited in the library. His back was to Bruce when he entered.

"Mr. Jones?"

Ryan turned. "Mr Wayne, it's an honor."

"Please, have a seat."

The men sat in leather armchairs.

"Would you like something to drink?" Alfred came in with tea.

"No, thank you." Ryan glanced towards the books for a moment. "I heard, about Dick, and I'm sorry. How is he doing?"

Bruce tensed slightly, most wouldn't notice. Ryan was very good at reading people.

"I'm sorry, I'll make this quick so you can be with him. Several years back, Dick helped my siblings and I. Since then we've become friends and he has given us chances that we never thought possible. I currently have an internship with doctor James Stevens, the top neuroscientist in the country. Doctor Stevens has offered to take Dick's case. I know that you are able to afford the best-"

Bruce held up his hand, a faint smile on his face. "Thank you, Ryan. I will take you up in your kind offer. Would you like to go up and see him?"

Ryan had the time, but Bruce needed it. He could see that. "I have to get back. Perhaps another time."

"You're always welcome."

"Thank you."

The men stood, shook hands and Alfred showed Ryan out. Bruce was still standing in the room when Alfred returned.

"Mr. Jones is a very generous, young man." Alfred said after a while.

"There's so much about Dick I don't know." Bruce muttered.

"Master Richard has his own life, as is should be."

Bruce turned to Alfred. "I didn't think you agreed with how things ended."

"I don't, sir, but Master Richard has become better from it."

"He's always been better." Bruce turned and went back to Dick's bedside.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

-------nw-------

ONE WEEK BEFORE.

Everything got worse when it was hot. Tempers were short during the day and everyone was out at night. Nobody slept well on hot nights, everyone became an insomniac. Air conditioners struggled in windows, fans turned sluggishly, windows were thrown open in the futile hope of catching a faint breeze from the bay. Crime rose with the mercury in the thermometer, everyone knew that.

Sweat traced down the back of Dick's hairline as he lurked in and out of shadows. It had been a busy night, deadly too. He briefly thought of the cold beer in his fridge, that is if the power hadn't gone out again. A gunshot from below caught his attention, his fourth gun altercation in as many hours. He shoved his sweat damp hair back and swung down to the street.

"Give her back." The voice was young, scared.

Not another case with a kid, please.

Dick rounded the corner. A ten year old boy, skinny and sweaty, held a gun with both hands. His hands shook as he aimed at the dark clad figure a few yards away. The man held a gun loosely at one side and gripped a seven year old girl in the other. The girl was pale, silent, terrified.

"Your brother had a score to settle, I was sent to settle it."

"Please." Tears mixed with sweat on the boy's face.

The man shifted his grip on the girl and smiled. "Take it up with my boss."

The boy cocked the gun. "Please."

"Evan!" The girl screamed before she cried out from the tightened grip on her.

The boy, Evan, was conflicted. He had no idea what to do, only that he should be able to save his sister.

"Forget it, kid." The man raised the gun. "Get lost."

Evan took a step back, the gun still raised.

Dick took careful aim and fired. The man staggered back and let the girl go. She ran to her brother as Dick stepped form the shadows.

"Go back by the building." Dick glanced at them.

Evan took his sister's hand and pulled her to the cover of shadows. Dick walked up to the man and stood over him. He placed his foot on the center of the man's chest.

"Take it up with your boss, huh?" He met the man's eyes. "Believe me, I will."

The man laughed. "Then you won't live long, Nightwing. Kane doesn't like his business interrupted."

"Antonio Kane?"

The man smirked.

Dick pressed his foot down a little harder. "Tell him I'll be waiting. And tell him I'll settle whatever business that family has with him. He is to leave them alone."

The man winced.

"Got it?"

The air was pressed from his lungs. "Yeah." He gasped.

"Good." Dick turned and went to the kids.

The little girl had tears on her cheeks, but she wasn't crying at the moment. She was wrapped in her brother's arms.

Dick slipped the gun from the waistband of Evan's jeans. "Where did you get this?"

"From my brother's dresser." He hung his head. "Don't tell him. He said I couldn't ever touch it."

"He was right."

"But I had to." He looked up. "When he took Sam. I had to."

Dick rested his hand on Evan's head. "Where is your brother?"

"Working."

"I'll take you home." Dick picked up Sam and took Evan's hand. "Evan, right?"

He nodded.

They lived a few blocks away. It seemed Bludhaven had no shortage of rundown apartment buildings in dangerous neighborhoods. ON the walk over, Dick learned that their brother, Jeremy, was caught up in drugs, but he had been clean for over a year. His debt and connections were harder to break than the addiction. Their mom worked three jobs to keep the apartment, keep her children fed and pay the medical bills for her youngest, who lived with severe cerebral palsy in a medical care facility. Their mom was only home to sleep a few hours and get a quick hug.

Jeremy came running form the building as they approached. he grabbed Evan and Sam and held them close. "Where have you been, are you all right?"

Evan pushed away. "They took Sam. I had to get her."

Jeremy picked up Sam and met Dick's eyes. "Thank you."

"Keep an eye on them." Dick smiled a little.

"It was Kane." Evan whispered. "One of his guys."

Jeremy tensed.

Dick took a step forward. "Listen, I don't think you'll have any more trouble with him. Not after I broke some of the guy's ribs like I did." He shrugged. "Let me know if you do, though."

"Thanks."

Jeremy extended his hand and the young men shook.

"Keep this some place other than your dresser." Dick handed the gun over to Jeremy.

Jeremy looked over at Evan, when he looked back, Nightwing was gone.

That was the best the night was, hell the best the week was. Everything else was the dredges of society at their worst. Dick had been stabbed (it wasn't much), lost count of the fistfights and shot at a few times. It was a hell of a night.

He returned to his apartment just as the sun was breaking the horizon. He had time for a shower, breakfast and a change of clothes before he had to start his shift at the station. It was going on his third day without sleep and he knew he couldn't keep it up much longer. Even the days at the station were busy. It was the heat, but that wasn't likely to break any time soon. The station was full of victims giving statements, and criminals waiting to be booked.

Sweat already dampened Dick's hair as he arrived at the station. Eight in the morning and already eighty degrees, it would break a hundred, again. He went into the locker room to change.

"Another hot one." John glanced over.

Dick nodded. "Yes, it is."

"You sill out on the field?"

"Yeah."

John slammed his locker closed. "Good luck."

"You too."

NOW.

Bruce stood in front of the window in Dick's room. He watched the shadows from the morning sun shrink across the yard. Weariness pulled at him, but he brushed it aside.

Doctor Stevens had taken a look at Dick, run some tests and suggested some options if nothing changed in a week.

Leslie came into the room and Bruce turned from the window. She checked Dick's vitals and reflexes.

"Anything?" He didn't mean to sound so hopeful.

She smiled a little. "Not yet." She folded the blankets back. "You can help keep his range of motion."

Leslie showed Bruce how to bend Dick's legs and arms ot keep some muscle tone and flexibility. Dick's arm tensed in Bruce's hand and he looked into his son's face. Dick's entire body tensed as he started to seize. Leslie was calm and focused as she moved the blankets away and turned him on his side.

"Bruce." Leslie glanced up at him.

He snapped out of the terror and held Dick on his side. "Don't fight me, please." He whispered.

It was only a minute, but it was just about the longest minute of Bruce's life. Dick relaxed again and Leslie started to check him over. Bruce took a step back, his eyes locked on Dick. Bruce was so sure he had lost him, so sure that…

"He's all right, Bruce." Leslie pulled the blankets up. "I'm going to call doctor Stevens and he's going to have to be moved to the hospital."

Bruce nodded and took a slow breath.

"This isn't the time to worry. He'll be okay." She stepped out into the hall.

Bruce gently sat on the edge of the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

-------nw-------

SIX YEARS AGO.

"We're not discussing this." Bruce's tone was icy, final.

"Fine." The word was sharp.

He listened to the dial tone after Dick hung up.

Dick slammed the phone down. His fists and jaw were clenched in barely controlled anger. He grabbed his keys and left the room. He nearly ran into Roy in the hall.

_That was the problem of being in Titan's Tower,_ he thought, _there's always someone around._

"Dick, you okay?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "Just going out for a bit."

Roy held his gaze and analyzed his friend. "You sure?"

"I'll be back later." He pushed past his friend.

"Maybe if you go back to the Manner for a bit."

Dick slammed his fist into the wall. "I left, Roy! Moved out. I'm fine."

That was the first Roy had heard about it. He knew Dick had been tense, but he didn't know why.

Dick felt into the cooling evening. He drove just to drive, drove to clear his head. He was surprised when eh found himself in front of Ryan's apartment building.

Since Ryan's coincidental meeting with Robin, things had been better for him and his siblings. They had been able to move to a safer and nicer apartment and Ryan got a new job at an office downtown. He started taking classes at the university, he had always wanted to be a doctor. Ryan had never taken charity a day in his life, he said he'd pay Dick back when eh could. Ryan intended to do that, he would do that.

Dick parked and walked up the stairs. He pressed the intercom.

"Yeah?" Jake's voice came through.

"It's Dick, is Ryan there?"

"Uh huh. You wanna come up?"

"Please."

The lock clicked and Dick went inside.

Ryan let him in, took one look at him and grabbed a couple of sodas from the refrigerator. Dick followed him out onto the fire escape.

"What's going on?" Ryan glanced over.

"Nothing."

"You look like you have the world on your back."

Dick didn't like to talk to anyone about his own problems, a side effect of living with Bruce perhaps. Everyone had some problem though, Dick could deal with his own shit, nobody needed to worry about him.

"Dick, what's going on? I'd buy you a drink if we were old enough, cause you look like you could use it." He paused. "Everything okay with Bruce?"

It wasn't the first time Dick marveled at Ryan's perceptiveness. "Why?" He played it off.

"You want the abridged version or the full list?" He smirked.

Dick rolled his eyes. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"You haven't told anyone, have you?" He sighed. "Listen, if you can't talk to you friends, then what the hell am I here for?"

"I don't want to-"

"Burdon me? You won't. I sure as hell don't have the corner market on the 'my life is shit' angle. Besides, I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Spill."

Dick tensed, took a drink of his soda and glanced away. "I kinda moved out."

"Out out?"

"Yeah. There was a fight, it was best if I left."

"Did he kick you out?"

Dick didn't answer, he didn't have to.

"I'm sorry, man."

He managed a bitter smile. "Actually, it is better like this."

"Where are you staying?"

"With friends, I'm all right." His phone vibrated. "Shit, I got to go."

Ryan stood, helped Dick up. "See ya. We got a couch if you need it."

He smiled. "Thanks." He left and went back to Titans Tower to answer the call.

NOW.

Dick was transported down to the waiting helicopter on the lawn of Wayne manner. Bruce never left his side. Eh was taken to a private room at Gotham General and then taken for an MRI and CAT scan. Bruce was left standing alone in the room.

He was returned to the room a few hours later. Bruce stood when doctor Stevens came in.

"He's doing well, Mr. Wayne, considering it all."

"What do the results say?"

Doctor Stevens smiled a little. "There is a small bleed in his brain. It has increased sicne he was first injured. I'd like to place a temporary shunt to relieve some of the pressure inside of his skull."

"Will he wake up then?"

"It will increase his chances." He paused. "Mr. Wayne, there is some risk with this procedure."

Bruce looked over at Dick. Some of the bruises had started to fade, but he hadn't woken up in five days. "Do it."

Dick was taken away again. Bruce sunk wearily into a chair.

SIX DAYS AGO.

Bruce stayed in the shadows, his cape caught a faint breeze in the hot night and fluttered around his ankles. He'd had too many calls that night, one after the other and getting worse as we went along. It was always worse when it was hot.

One of his phone lines rang, the one that only a small handful of people knew. "Batman."

"Bruce, it's Barbara." Her voice sounded a little shaky. "Get to Bludhaven."

"Why?" Something cold dropped into his stomach.

"It's Dick. He's hurt."

Bruce locked in her coordinates. "Are you with him?"

"Yes."

"Did you call an ambulance?"

She paused. "They have a thirty minute delay."

"I'll be there in ten minutes." He almost didn't want to ask. "How bad is it?"

"Bad."

The line went silent and Bruce took off at a run. He flew across the rooftops. His only thought was _please, please don't' let him be dead. Not him. Please, not him._ His heart pounded in his ears and sweat slicked his hair down. He didn't stop. He drove the streets, a black blur, as fast as he could.

He called Barbara. "How is he?"

"Where are you?"

"Five minutes."

"Make it faster, if you can." She was calm, somber. "I've done all I can, and it's not enough."

"What happened, Barbara?" His tone softened.

"He hasn't slept in a few days I think, it's been so busy, but nobody could have known what he walked into." She paused. "He called me for back up."

"Are you hurt?"

"It's not so bad."

Bruce could read between the lines, she was hurt too. For something to take down Dick and Barbara, well, it must have been as close to hell as any of them might ever get.

"I'm seconds away." He looked in the dark for them.

"Ally after the pool hall." She took a slow breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't save him." Her voice broke. "He was protecting me."

"I know you did everything."

It was then he saw Barbara, knelt over a still figure curled on the ground. His breath caught when he realized it was Dick.

NOW.

"Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce looked up at doctor Stevens. "How is he?"

"Doing well. If you'd like to step into the hall for a few minutes, while we get him settled?"

"Of course." He stood in the hall as Dick was wheeled by.

The door to his room was mostly closed. Bruce heard footsteps and saw Barbara come down the hall. Her left arm was in a cast, the bruises had faded some.

"I went to see how he is, Alfred said they moved him." Her voice was quiet. "Is he all right?"

"About the same, doctor Stevens just wanted some tests. How are you?" He nodded towards her cast. "That's new."

She glanced down. "From that night."

"I didn't know it was broken."

She didn't answer.

The door to Dick's room opened and a nurse stepped out with a smile. Bruce and Barbara slipped into the quiet. Other than the white of a bandage and a small tube at the back of his head, nothing had changed.

"You said he was the same." Barbara's voice was quiet.

"Essentially, he is. He'll be okay."

Her fingers gently brushed the back of Dick's hand. "He's never this still. I wish he'd wake up."

"He will."

She nodded and believed it because she needed to. They both did. Bruce and Barbara stayed at his side and watched for any sign that he was coming back to them.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

p.s. sorry for the typos, I'm writing this fast and don't go back to edit. Also, sorry for the gaps in updates, I'm currently moving and other things are complicating my free time.

-------nw-------

10 YEARS PREVIOUS.

It was one of those wicked November nights, the ones that are rainy, windy and bone chilling cold.

Dick woke and slipped from his bed. He crept down to the cave, saw Bruce at the screens and monitors and went over to change into his Robin uniform. He emerged and took his cape down from the hook. His hand brushed Bruce's cape.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Bruce didn't move from the screens.

He swallowed and ignored his sore throat. "No?"

Bruce turned to the boy, young man almost, now that he was fifteen. Dick looked younger though, with the rouge of fever on his cheeks.

"I mean." Dick's voice cracked, rough already from coughing. "I've been in bed all day, missed school and everything. You need my help."

"You're still sick."

"I feel fine." His eyes would have been determined if not for him still being sick.

Bruce smirked. "Really."

He swallowed back a cough and nodded. He pulled on his cape both as an act of defiance and to try and remember what being warm felt like.

Bruce cast an appraising look over him. "Did you clear it with Alfred?"

Dick grimaced. "That's not fair. Bruce, if I spend one more minute lying quietly in bed, I'm gonna go crazy."

As if he knew he had been mentioned, Alfred came down to the cave. "Going out in this weather, Master Bruce?"

"Soon as I have everything together."

"And young Master Richard, what are you doing out of bed?"

Dick faltered a little under the scrutinizing gaze. "Going out on patrol."

Alfred pressed his hand against Dick's forehead. "Not with that temperature."

"You can't get sick from the weather." He muttered.

"Indeed, but this weather will make you more ill."

"Alfred." Dick pushed his hand away. "Bruce needs my help. I feel fine. I can't stand to spend another minute in my room resting."

Dick had woke that morning and got ready for school even though he felt like he had been hit by a truck. He went down for breakfast, nearly coughed out a lung on the way, and sat down at the kitchen table. Alfred took one look at him and set him back to bed. Dick didn't argue, which told Alfred exactly how the boy felt. Dick had slept most of the day, another unusual action for him.

"I'll stay in the car, unless I'm really needed." It was his last chance. "Please."

Bruce met his eyes. "You'd sneak out if I didn't take you."

"Most likely."

"He'll be fine in the car, Alfred."

Alfred gave a look to Bruce that would have turned normal men to stone before he dosed Dick up with advil and cough medicine. "You are going straight to bed until I deem you well. Do you understand me?"

Dick nodded, he didn't dare do anything else but agree.

---

Patrol was fairly quiet. The weather kept most everyone indoors. Only the truly psychotic would be out, which is what Bruce had feared. When the call of a hostage situation at a school retreat, Bruce wasn't overly surprised.

"Stay here." Bruce looked over at Dick.

"You sure?" He was fighting fatigue with all he was worth.

"Yes."

Dick watched Bruce disappear into the shadows and rain. He turned up the radio a little to hear what was going on.

The gunshot and screams drew Dick's attention more than anything else. He was already out of the car when Bruce came through over his earpiece.

"One got away…roof…can't follow." The static broke Bruce's words.

"I'm on it." Dick raced to the roof access.

"You sure?"

He smiled. "Don't worry. Told you you needed me."

"Be careful."

"Course."

The frigid wind blew icy rain into Dick's face as he climbed the ladder in the back. He completely forgot that he wasn't at a hundred percent. He leapt up onto the roof, silent and unnoticed. A dark figure stood near the air conditioners, a boy held in his grasp. Dick stepped out into the light with dramatic flair.

"Shit." The man glanced over the edge of the building.

"I wouldn't." Dick smirked.

The boy was about twelve, a few years younger than Dick himself. He was wearing a rain soaked sweatshirt and jeans, he shivered.

The man released the boy and raised his hands. Dick had to give him credit for knowing when he was beat.

"Good choice."

The boy stumbled towards Dick. He slipped off his cape and put it over the boy's shoulders. Dick walked over to the man and handcuffed him to the air conditioner unit.

"I'll make sure to let the police know you're up here." Dick coughed.

Now that the adrenaline was fading, Dick was beginning to think that insisting on going on patrol wasn't the best decision. He started to shiver as he walked over to the boy.

"Let's go back in."

The boy clutched the cape around him. "He locked the roof door."

"Not a problem." It took him twice as long to pick the lock because his hands were shaking.

Halfway down the stairs they met up with two police officers. Dick was starting to feel like he was hit by that truck again.

"He's handcuffed to the air conditioner." His voice was rough.

One of the cops continued up the stairs while the other traded Dick's cape for a blanket around the boy. Dick gratefully put his cape back on, even though it was wet. He couldn't remember ever feeling so cold. He met up with Bruce downstairs and thye went out to the car. Bruce knew it was all Dick could do just to keep walking.

"You did good." They slipped into the car and Bruce cranked the heat.

Dick nodded and continued to shiver.

"How do you feel?"

"F-fine." His throat burned and he coughed.

Bruce reached over and rested his hand on Dick's forehead. The kid's fever was up.

"Alfred's going to tie you to that bed."

"Probably." He muttered.

"You shouldn't have come tonight."

"N-needed me." He coughed, tried to catch his breath. "Couldn't stay in bed, had to do something."

Bruce understood that. Neither of them were much for sitting around, even when they were sick. Dick sunk into the seat, his eyes closed and his face pale.

Bruce smiled. "Alfred's going to kill both of us."

"Mmhmm."

"You did good. He was pretty sure Dick was already asleep.

---

Bruce carried Dick in from the car. The boy didn't even wake. Alfred me them in the batcave, a frown of disapproval on his face.

"Don't say it." Bruce kept his voice low. "I couldn't have done it without him."

Alfred rested his hand on Dick's forehead and the frown deepened. "He shouldn't have been out in that."

"I know."

"It won't happen again." His tone was firm.

"I can't make promises. Let's just get him up to bed."

Dick was changed out of his uniform and into dry flannels. He was tucked between his blankets without hardly waking. His eyes blinked open a time or two, but he didn't say anything. Alfred tipped pills and water into the boy's mouth and pulled the blankets up under his chin.

"You had better change as well, before you get sick." Alfred placed a cool cloth on Dick's head, but spoke to Bruce.

"Will do." He paused. "I think that's as still as I've ever seen him."

"He'll be all right."

"I shouldn't have let him come." Guilt burned suddenly. "It was stupid, I put him at risk."

Alfred turned. "You and I both know he was safer with you, than following behind after he snuck out. I can't tell either of you anything, so there's no use worrying about what's done." He smiled a little.

Bruce smiled and slipped out of the room. He was back in Dick's room within five minutes, making sure his son was all right.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

p.s. sorry for the typos, I'm writing this fast and don't go back to edit. Also, sorry for the gaps in updates, I'm currently moving and other things are complicating my free time.

-------nw-------

NOW.

Dick's hand twitched. Bruce and Barbara both saw the movement and moved forward. Barbara went to Dick's side and slipped her hand under his. Bruce pressed the call button for the doctor.

"Dick? Come on, open those eyes." She whispered. "Move your hand again."

Doctor Stevens came in and Barbara moved back. She and Bruce watched as the doctor checked Dick's reflexes.

"Any change?" Bruce asked after a moment.

"His reflexes are looking a little stronger." Doctor Stevens turned. "The movement you saw as an automatic muscle response, but it's more than he had a day ago. He is improving."

"Could you guess when?" Barbara didn't have to say what 'when' was.

"It's very hard to say. But judging on what I've seen, perhaps by the end of the week." He paused. "Talk to him, touch him, remind him that there is still a world outside his head."

Doctor Stevens left. Bruce stood on one side of the bed while Barbara took the other. She was more comfortable talking to Dick than Bruce was. Bruce didn't know what to say, he and Dick hadn't known what to say to each other for a few years. Bruce slowly moved to the door. He almost didn't want to be there the moment Dick woke, what if Dick didn't want to see him.

Dick's fingers tightened around Barbara's hand as she kept up a steady monologue. She and Bruce had been warned that there may be lasting damage, that Dick may not be the same person they knew, that he may have to relearn things he already knew, but she knew that he would come back to her. Just as he was. He'd be the same, it might take some time, but he'd get there again. She knew that.

ONE WEEK BEFORE.

Dick pressed the robber against the hood of the car to cuff him.

"Christ, this is hot."

"Should have thought of that before you emptied the till." Dick tightened the handcuffs. "Get in the car."

Dick shoved him in the back and closed the door.

"Grayson." The lead officer leaned out the driver side window. "There's a domestic disturbance three blocks down, think you can take that one until backup arrives?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Taylor should be there in ten minutes."

Dick jogged towards the second scene. The sun was hot and unyielding, sweat would have poured down his face if not for the fact that it evaporated on contact with the air. He felt dizzy for a moment and tried to remember when he last drank something. Back at the station maybe.

He heard the yelling two buildings down. He straightened his collar and went up to the building. He knocked on the door and the yelling continued.

"Bludhaven police." He knocked louder.

The door was opened by a large, red faced man in his thirties. "What the hell do you want?"

"Police were called to your residence because of the yelling. Why don't you tell me what's going on."

"We're fine."

"Right. How about you let me in and we can figure out what's going on." He saw a woman behind the man, she was pale and her face was tear streaked. "Ma'am, are you all right?"

She nodded briefly before her husband stepped in again. "Leave her out of this." He stepped forward and pushed Dick's shoulder.

"Sir, you are moving closer to being arrested."

"And you're moving cloer to getting your ass kicked."

Dick spoke into his radio. "Backup requested at 1437 West Elm, domestic disturbance with an uncooperative male."

The first fist to Dick's jaw took him by surprise, the second he caught and twisted the man's arm behind his back. Most people underestimated Dick, which worked in his favor. He was lean, his strength wasn't obvious, nor was his training. Dick held the man's hands behind his back as he pressed him into the wall.

"You want to calm down now, or do you want to kepe getting to know the bricks?"

"Let me up you bastard!"

Dick pressed him harder into the wall. "Bricks it is.."

Officer Tom Reynolds pulled up in the car. "Look slike you don't' need backup after all."

"Get him into the car, would you?" Dick glanced back.

Tom was one of those muscular, I-played-football type. He pushed the suspect to the car.

Dick leaned against the wall. Between the heat and the hit he took, his head throbbed and he was dizzy. He knew he was nearing heat fatigue and needed to get some water soon. There was the underlying fatigue as well, but it was hardly on the radar.

"Grayson, you all right?"

"Yeah." He pushed away from the wall and covered the stumble to catch his balance.

"You look a little pale." Tom paused. "I've seen more than enough officers go down from heat like this. Go find some shade until we get back to the station. I got this."

"I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking."

Dick sat on the steps in the shade of the building. He rested his head in his palm and let his focus drift.

"Grayson! Damnit."

Dick looked up and saw Tom on the ground and the suspect running down the street. Without hesitation, Dick was on his feet and closing the distance. Adrenaline pushed everything else aside. They both ran down the sizzling streets. Dick drew close and jumped. He took down the suspect and pinned him to the ground. They both were breathing hard, it was too hot to run like that.

Tom pulled up in the car and threw the suspect in the back. He ignored the threats and yelling.

"Grayson, you okay?"

Dick stayed on his hands and knees. "Yeah." He was fighting nausea.

The suspect kicked at the doors.

Tom glanced over at him. "Keep it up, I dare you." He knelt down next to Dick. "Can you get up?"

"Just wait." He breathed.

"It was stupid, but I'm glad you went after him." He rubbed his jaw. "He has a wicked right hook."

"I know." Slowly he eased back and sat on the sidewalk.

Dick was pale and his hands shook. He wasn't sweating much and his heart beat was fast in his ears.

"Let's go back to the station. Get you rehydrated and cooled down. This heat's even makin me feel like shit." Tom gripped Dick's shoulder.

Dick swallowed and leaned away from Tom. He gagged a few times and tried not to black out. Tom hauled Dick to his feet and put him in the front seat of the car.

The suspect still fought in the back, but he was slightly calmer. Tom climbed behind the wheel and cranked the air conditioner. Dick focused on not being sick again.

They pulled up to the station. Two officers came out and took the suspect into custody. Tom took Dick's arm and led him into the break room. He set a bottle of water in front of Dick.

"Drink it slow." He opened one for himself.

Dick wanted to down it in one drink, but forced himself not to. His head swam and blacking out seemed like a good idea. Tom kept an eye on Dick.

"We've already sent four guys home cause of the heat." Tom grabbed another water.

"I'm not number five."

"Uh huh."

"I'm fine."

"You look like death warmed over."

Dick smirked. "Don't say warmed."

"Finish your water." Tom placed another bottle in front of Dick.

Chief Addad came into the room. Dick tried to stand.

"Grayson, stay down. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, sir."

Addad glanced over at Tom before looking back to Dick. "When you feel up to it, I want you headed home."

"Chief." Dick stood then, a hand on the table to keep from falling.

"I've seen you here so much this past week, I'm beginning to suspect you've moved into the locker room. Go home, drink a gallon of water and sit in front of a fan. You, passed out, won't help anyone. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Dick slumped back into the chair.

"Good." He smiled. "Reynolds, you holding up all right?"

"Yeah, I wasn't the one who chased down the suspect. Grayson here can take the glory."

"Nicely done, Grayson. I'll see you in two days."

"Two?"

Addad met Dick's eyes. "Two."

"Yes, sir."

Dick closed his eyes as chief Addad left. He finished his first bottle of water and started on the second.

"Shit." He muttered.

Tom looked over at him. "The bad guys will still be out there, Grayson."

"That's the problem."

"Come on, kid, take a break. The world won't end."

Dick smiled a little. "Guess I am sort of useless right now."

"Useless and exhausted are two different things. I'll take you home."

He stood, a little more steady after the second bottle of water. "I have my cycle. I'll just drink more and grab a shower before I head out." He let the room.

"Just don't crash on the way home and make more work for us." Tom smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind." He stumbled slightly on the way down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

I don't own Nightwing or Batman or the Titans. That's all DC and I'd really like if they let me just play with the brilliant characters they have. So, thank you in advance.

And to the readers, THANK YOU a million times for reading. I love you all.

p.s. sorry for the typos, I'm writing this fast and don't go back to edit. Also, sorry for the gaps in updates, things got super busy and the inspiration for this was MIA for a bit.

-------nw-------

NOW.

It was dark when his eyes finally opened. He didn't know where he was, what had happened, why his head pounded or why everything felt too heavy to move. A heart monitor beeped above him.

A nurse came in to check his vitals and smiled when she saw his sleepy, confused gaze on her. "Welcome back."

He tried to speak, but he had no voice.

The nurse held a glass of water to him and he drank it through a straw. The water was a miracle on his dry throat.

Finally he managed a weak, "Where?"

"Gotham General. I'm going to get your doctor."

Dick was exhausted, but he fought to stay awake. He wanted answers to the questions in his head, he wanted to know why he was there, he wanted to know what had happened. A doctor came into the room with a smile. Dick wondered why everyone smiled when they saw him.

"I'm doctor Stevens, you're at Gotham General. How are you feeling?"

He didn't know. "Tired?"

"That's understandable." The doctor shined a light in Dick's eyes. "You have been in a light coma for the past week and a half. Do you remember what happened?"

"Coma?"

Dick's obvious questions didn't seem to bother the doctor. "Yes. Can you tell me your name?"

"Dick Grayson." He was at least sure of that.

"Good. Do you remember what happened?"

He tried, he really did. "No." That worried him, he had always had a fantastic memory.

"That's all right, it may come back in time. Can you tell me the month?"

It seemed to be a lot of work to think. "November?"

"Good. How about where you are?"

"A hospital." He paused, it seemed like he was just told which one. "I don't know."

"Gotham General." The doctor noted something in the chart. "I'd like you to take my hands and squeeze. I want to make sure that there is no weakness on either side of your body."

Dick took the doctor's hands and squeezed. He didn't realize he was so weak, it took a lot more effort than he thought it would. He was getting tired.

"Good." The doctor smiled again. "I'm going to let you get some rest and then ask you some more questions later. All right?"

"Sure." He sighed. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"What happened?"

The doctor Stevens met Dick's eyes. "Later, get some rest."

WEEK AND A HALF BEFORE.

Dick arrived home in once piece, though he could hardly stand straight for his dizziness. He turned on his window air conditioner and prayed as it sputtered to life. He let the cool air wash over him for a moment before he went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it slow because it still hit his stomach like lead.

He stood at the counter and kept drinking water until the dizziness was simply replaced by weariness. He eased onto the couch and leaned his head back. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but he was before he knew it.

He woke to the room darkening around him. He felt better, strong enough to make an appearance as Nightwing. He had to do something, he never was one to stay at home. Not when there was a city to save.

By the time he had pulled on his Nightwing uniform, darkness had settled over the city. There was no cooler air to go with it, just hot night smothering everything. He could hear televisions, fights, conversations, music from the endless open windows. Window fans and air conditioners tried their best to fight against the heat, but they couldn't win. The city would have to wait it out, would have to suffer through until it finally broke. It would only get worse until it broke.

He swung in and out of shadows and felt the hot air rush past him. A confidant smirk on his lips as he did what came so easily to him. Sure, being a cop was good enough, but Nightwing didn't have to stay within the lines of red tape and procedure. All he had to do was stop the criminals, any way he could.

The flashing red and blue lights caught his attention, lights without sirens. He perched on top of the next building over. Seven police cars were circled around the front door, officers were armed and ready for a shootout. Chief Addad stepped from behind a car with a bullhorn. A SWAT truck pulled up. Dick looked for a way into the locked-down building.

"Kevin Anderton, this is the Bludhaven Police. Release the hostages and come out with your hands were I can see them." Addad had to try, even though he knew it would never work.

Dick noted that there were hostages and knew his job just got a little harder. He remembered Kevin Anderton, was a drug dealer two years ago and sort of slipped off the radar since then. Apparently he had bigger plans. Dick wasn't sure if the situation was a drug deal gone wrong or if it was something worse. His gut told him it was something worse.

A silhouette passed in front of a window only Dick could see, so he knew that there was at least one person in the room away from the street. Chief Addad was handed a phone and then a gunshot rang through the night. Dick didn't wait any longer, he swung onto the roof of the building and climbed in through the roof access door.

If he listened closely, he could hear faint voices. Two floors down if he had to guess. He silently moved down the stairs, ready for anything. Getting caught by surprised wouldn't save anyone.

Dick found the first body near the door of the landing. The girl couldn't have been more than fourteen. She had been shot more than what was necessary. He closed her eyes and wish he had been there sooner. The blood was already congealed, so she had been dead for a couple hours already. She was half dressed in a tank top and pink underwear. He wondered what exactly Kevin had been up to.

Dick slipped through the door, glanced back at the girl once and whispered "I'm sorry" before he slipped into the hallway. Only a few lights were on, and it cast deep shadows in the hall. He could work with that, but that meant that he'd also have to make sure nobody else was using the dark to their favor.

Paper had been taped over the window, all except for one small corner. When Dick looked through, he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Kevin apparently had moved up from selling drugs, he was selling sex now and he catered to a very specific group of people. None of the twelve girls in the room were over the age of fifteen. Something cold slipped into Dick's stomach and he burned with fury.

"…Anderton, we will be calling you and you will need to pick up the phone. There is no reason for anyone to get hurt…" Addad's voice drifted in from the street.

Dick knew when it was time to call in some back up. Kevin was smart and never worked alone, so that meant that some of his goons were lurking somewhere. Their absence from the room did nothing to ease Dick's anxiety. He typed his coordinates and a brief summary of the situation to the one person he knew would be there.

He just hoped Barbara Gordon wasn't too wrapped up in any other case.

He turned to move further down the hall. The lead pipe came out of nowhere. Kevin was smart and he only used the best. Dick saw stars as he spun his fist into the attacker's face. The man dropped to the floor and Dick felt blood drip with the sweat down the back of his head. Dick blinked his vision clear and moved down the hall. He was in over his head and he knew it.

Dick took out three more guys and was no closer to saving the hostages. His head throbbed with ever heartbeat and he was damp with sweat. He was slightly dizzy and didn't know if it was the heat or the head wound. Another gunshot echoed through the building and Dick's heartbeat increased. He was running out of time and there were very few options open to him.

A door opened not too far away. "Take it out, dump it somewhere out of the way. And keep in mind, that's what happens when you try to run."

After years, Dick still recognized Kevin's voice. Dick stayed in the shadows, invisible.

A girl, thirteen maybe, dressed like the girl he found in the stairwell, staggered out into the hall. She was dragging something wrapped in a blanket. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. A small hand fell from the blanket wrapped blanket.

Dick's blood ran cold, too late again. He slowly stepped from the shadows. The girl was too scared to be startled and as soon as she recognized Nightwing's uniform, she ran forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.


End file.
